Skarazo the hidden plane [IC]

[BelGareth]

Skarazo the hidden plane[IC]

You all managed to arrive relatively on time, the Outlands was as miserable as ever, the bleak weather dull and dreary and the lack of available sunshine, just the blurry haze of something illuminating providing the daylight caused your demeanor to worsen.

You found a primitive tribe of almost neanderthal humanoids, too stupid to realize they walk among gods they nod to you as you walk by, finding the meeting place, a stone plinth these savages chose to hole up their tents near by.

Turning you regard the infinite mountain that leads to Sigil, the clouds circling it and moving on, as if they didn't care, and who did? You were here for something else, the missive had guided you here, and you were curious as to the others that would be waiting.


http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20070526120237/forgottenrealms/images/d/d5/Sigil.jpg

Stepping the last stone stair you see you are not disappointed, you know each and everyone of the legendary creatures standing before you.

Now what? What in the Nine are you to do with these...others...well, find out how to get to the hidden plane for starters...can't rescue someone if you can't get to them.

The only thing you know is Armthesis was on some fading Minor plane, studying the portals and gates therein, something hinted towards ancient elves, even the LeShay themselves, perhaps a ruin of their ancient and cursed culture? Who knows, you don't, that's for sure, you do know Armthesis recently departed from Sigil, hence your location...

[ShadowFireLance]

The tall, Humanlike creature stood, staring at the other's, drinking in their form, filing it until it would be necessary.

He turned his device, a small egg shaped device, until it clicked, and held it, staring at the others, unblinking.

He himself was something no others would expect, humanlike, with four limbs, his face the only part not covered by skintight black leather, with almost uncountable straps covering it.
His face and head by far were what was most disturbing about him, he had pale skin, and dark red eyes. If not for the thousands of cuts running across the skin, and the four sawblades running straight through his head.

"Please introduce yourselves."

[Lexin]

When Albert Wortmeister arrives at the scene he looks like a young (around 20 year old) human man... with a huge white beard, which looks much older than him. After a few minutes he notices his mistake though and adjusts his looks =, back to the extremely old form... the beard stays the same though... and if someone looks closely they could notice a nest of small birds placed somewhere in the middle of it, joyful chirping can be heard from time to time too...

He takes out a long pipe from his pack, fills it with some blue plant and curses a few times until it burns nicely and a strand of violet smoke rises from it. Only then he takes a moment to look at others, he focuses for a moment longer on the man who spoke first.
"Oh my. Arent'cha an ugly boy?" he says quietly, with a pipe still in his mouth and a beginning laughter heard in his tone.

"Also a rude one, to that. Everyone knows that you should say your name first before asking about others... Mr. Unaavony Yrpgre." he says without with a perfect enunciation. "Ah, and I am Karthakarrlightavrraansgart'fraggghan'stirras Vol Cha'aartarlin'ngustri'nkaelrbillan, but you can call me Albert Wordmeister... everyone does for some weird reason..."
He says, genuinely puzzled... and looks expectantly at others.
"While I could name you all, I am not that good at introducing people..."
He adds after a moment.

[drack]

A chuckling old curmudgeon of a goblin strolls out of the old man's shadow where he had been waking, entirely invisible to the eye... well that wasn't entirely true. Things like blindsight, touchsidht, dark sight, magical dark sight, and low light sight seemed to follow him just fine... only that it blurred and spasmed, so people never seemed entirely sure exactly where he was when he didn't want to be seen. All the name now he strode forth.

He was a thin bald little goblin with a nice wooden cane (rotting stick he found in the woods), and a cape of emerald blue... well actually an ill fitting tunic of sewn together rat hides. To be fair, one looks somewhat passable as the other if you wear it long enough...

His knobby old knees knocked togeather slightly as he walked, a youthful bounce in his step that gave away how much fun he had harassing the young lad. "Indeed Mr. Una... Can I call you Anna? In any case young Anna, you must remember your manners as Karth said, it would be dreadfully terrible is your actions acted to draw out evil spirits to haunt you."

Pausing he scratches his head dimly pulling his naked mole rat hide cloves tighter he gestures with his staff... or at least that's what everyone seems to assume it is, why else would someone walk around with a stick all day and spout magical nonsense every so often. "Speaking of Karth, I hope you wouldn't mind sharing a puff or two o' that blue with ol' Schmuzely "

[al'Lan Mandrag]

Naeth approached the strange gathering, and added her own rather eccentric appearance to the group. A tall elf, with typical drow colouring; dark skin and black hair, yet hers was striped with silver. She wore light armour, that appeared to be padded and enchanted, and she carried a staff in hand. Her belt had a number of arcane looking rods attached as though for quick access.

"Naeth," she announces shaking Albert's hand before casting an appraising look at Unaavony. "I was sent by the Sisterhood," she announces, in a very business like fashion, referring to the school for female mages that notably taught all magic except any that could be used for battle. "Do any of you know specifically when Armthesis passed through these lands?" She wished her superiors had seen fit to give her more information: they had instead seemed rather glad to get rid of her.

[Lexin]

Pausing he scratches his head dimly pulling his naked mole rat hide cloves tighter he gestures with his staff... or at least that's what everyone seems to assume it is, why else would someone walk around with a stick all day and spout magical nonsense every so often. "Speaking of Karth, I hope you wouldn't mind sharing a puff or two o' that blue with ol' Schmuzely "

"Oh, I don't mind at all!" he says, pulling a spare pipe and another portion of the blue plant.
"I have no idea what it is, but it tastes great! Here you are Mr. Glugralhanckenschmuzly." he adds with a smile, giving him the pipe.



"Naeth," she announces shaking Albert's hand before casting an appraising look at Unaavony. "I was sent by the Sisterhood," she announces, in a very business like fashion, referring to the school for female mages that notably taught all magic except any that could be used for battle. "Do any of you know specifically when Armthesis passed through these lands?" She wished her superiors had seen fit to give her more information: they had instead seemed rather glad to get rid of her.

"Who?!" *pause* "Ah, no, don't tell me. I remember now. I knew there was a reason I came to this world!... wait wasn't I supposed to be on a party of sorts?" He takes out of one of his many pockets a small brown book "Ah, no, it was a year ago... I wonder if they are still waiting... gonna check after this one is finished..." he says quietly and takes some notes in the book.
"Anyway, no, I am afraid I have no idea when was it... I suppose we could ask around..."

[drack]

"Schmuzly." The goblin corrects the man for the millionth time as he lights the pipe taking a puff. "And he was talking to the kid not you" Nodding his head, and causing the white rabbit corps strung to his head as a hat by piece of twine to nod as well, the rabbit's sapphire blue eyes flashing as they catch the light. Yes, yes. Now that you mention it there was a party I was supposed to meet. Yes, it was back during the last golden age when greggor was still king of the ogre tribes. Yes, yes, there was aberham, and vendric, and jussua, and fredrics, and bob. Why I tell you, billy was the best darned healer I ever seen, and there was never no mage like areheim. Yup, ain't no mage like rheme indeed. Did you know rhymeme Karth? Hiccuping Schmuzly jumps up, sitting two feet above where he was on thin air. "Where'd you get 'is blue anyways?"

[Virdish]

Arcos walked forward adding his own self to the party. His glimmering blue orbs were moving quickly from person to person, studying them and memorizing them he also quickly took in their intelligence identifying the most Intelligent amongst them. He took a few steps forward and the clack of his hooves echoed through the small area. His simple appearing chain armor rested on the bottom of his horse half. And a crystal longsword rested on his front hip. His crystal helm had been temporarily lifted and his hair would probably catch attention. It was fiery red (in so much that it shifted colors and appeared to be aflame.) His skin, where visible, was also much more red then the norm for a bariaur. Veinlike blue tattoo's covered his forehead in the same color as his eyes.

"I am Arcos. As for your earlier question. While I do not believe that any of us know exactly what happened I am sure that our combined intellect should do nicely to surmise the events that took place here."

[Lexin]

"Where'd you get 'is blue anyways?"

"Got it from a guy called Sssarth... He was a Slaadi, I think. I actually grow this thing in the University these days, it beats looking for it in Limbo." He says happily "Eh, I only need to keep gnomes from the places I planted it... It ate 3 so far... Oh well." ... and he resumes puffing the pipe.



"I am Arcos. As for your earlier question. While I do not believe that any of us know exactly what happened I am sure that our combined intellect should do nicely to surmise the events that took place here."
"I suppose... or we could ask someone..."

Anyone intelligent enough nearby to answer questions? (other than PCs)

[BelGareth]

You are surrounded by a tribe of neanderthals making camp, while intelligence could be argued as a point of view, you are not surrounded by anyone of higher intelligence.

Except of course...you know...sigil

[drack]

"Ah, Slaadi, a good folk. You know some think they came from a goblin wandering the astral who went mad. Funny what madness can do to a guy..." Fumbling with his pipe slightly he manages to extend a hand to the newcomer. "Hello Arcos, can I call ya Arc? Good to meet you. What do you do for a living?" He always tried to make a point of saying a name a few times so it might stick in his head a bit, all the same, occasionally he's come upon odd names that required a bit of simplification. The old Gobblin continues holding out his hand dutifully waiting for it to be shaken.

[Virdish]

"Ah, Slaadi, a good folk. You know some think they came from a goblin wandering the astral who went mad. Funny what madness can do to a guy..." Fumbling with his pipe slightly he manages to extend a hand to the newcomer. "Hello Arcos, can I call ya Arc? Good to meet you. What do you do for a living?" He always tried to make a point of saying a name a few times so it might stick in his head a bit, all the same, occasionally he's come upon odd names that required a bit of simplification. The old Gobblin continues holding out his hand dutifully waiting for it to be shaken.

Arcos would look down at the small creature and shake the offered hand. He didn't know whether or not he would get along with him but his first impression was a good one. He seemed interesting enough as it was and since he had left his plane he had little enough interesting company.

"You may call me what you wish Schmuzly, and you would most certainly not be the first to name me as such. As for what I do for a living... Well I used to adventure but for a while now I've simply removed myself from the need to make "a living." In the end I find it amazingly dreary to fit into other peoples versions of "ordinary.""

[ShadowFireLance]

When Albert Wortmeister arrives at the scene he looks like a young (around 20 year old) human man... with a huge white beard, which looks much older than him. After a few minutes he notices his mistake though and adjusts his looks =, back to the extremely old form... the beard stays the same though... and if someone looks closely they could notice a nest of small birds placed somewhere in the middle of it, joyful chirping can be heard from time to time too...

He takes out a long pipe from his pack, fills it with some blue plant and curses a few times until it burns nicely and a strand of violet smoke rises from it. Only then he takes a moment to look at others, he focuses for a moment longer on the man who spoke first.
"Oh my. Arent'cha an ugly boy?" he says quietly, with a pipe still in his mouth and a beginning laughter heard in his tone.

"Also a rude one, to that. Everyone knows that you should say your name first before asking about others... Mr. Unaavony Yrpgre." he says without with a perfect enunciation. "Ah, and I am Karthakarrlightavrraansgart'fraggghan'stirras Vol Cha'aartarlin'ngustri'nkaelrbillan, but you can call me Albert Wordmeister... everyone does for some weird reason..."
He says, genuinely puzzled... and looks expectantly at others.
"While I could name you all, I am not that good at introducing people..."
He adds after a moment.

"Did you happen to slur your words, by any chance? I believe you forgot a small paragraph in that.
Alright then, Albert, Well met."


A chuckling old curmudgeon of a goblin strolls out of the old man's shadow where he had been waking, entirely invisible to the eye... well that wasn't entirely true. Things like blindsight, touchsight, dark sight, magical dark sight, and low light sight seemed to follow him just fine... only that it blurred and spasmed, so people never seemed entirely sure exactly where he was when he didn't want to be seen. All the name now he strode forth.

He was a thin bald little goblin with a nice wooden cane (rotting stick he found in the woods), and a cape of emerald blue... well actually an ill fitting tunic of sewn together rat hides. To be fair, one looks somewhat passable as the other if you wear it long enough...

His knobby old knees knocked together slightly as he walked, a youthful bounce in his step that gave away how much fun he had harassing the young lad. "Indeed Mr. Una... Can I call you Anna? In any case young Anna, you must remember your manners as Karth said, it would be dreadfully terrible is your actions acted to draw out evil spirits to haunt you."

Pausing he scratches his head dimly pulling his naked mole rat hide cloves tighter he gestures with his staff... or at least that's what everyone seems to assume it is, why else would someone walk around with a stick all day and spout magical nonsense every so often. "Speaking of Karth, I hope you wouldn't mind sharing a puff or two o' that blue with ol' Schmuzely "

"No, You may not, I take offense at being called any nickname not chosen by myself. And in addition, Evil spirits dare not haunt me. And I do believe I am far older then you, mortal Goblin."

[drack]

Ignoring the "old" kid's tantrum Schmuzly shakes the man's hand, a small electric charge jumping from his hand on contact at which the old goblin cackles merrily. "Bit o' a shock ay?" Hopping up he claps his hands against each other in delight.


shocking grasp spell [roll0] electric damage


"So yet another homeless unemployed man hopping to steal the hard earned fortune of a dragon or two to get by." Schmuzly casually spits a thick glob of phlegm which seems to dissolve into mist when it hits the ground. Casually he places his own hand on the stranger's back quite heavily for a little goblin. "Well I myself am a writer with a home down in... well you wouldn't know it, but if I might offer you some advice. Settle down lad, find yourself a job that you can more concomitantly earn a living. Perhaps even buy a home so that you're not always locked out. Trust me, when you get to my age... well in any case we don't ant you becoming that do we?" He finishes sincerely gesturing to the tantrum before them.

Somehow despite his tattered garb the goblin caries himself with a sense of dignity not uncommon in the elderly, an almost noble manner about the old prankster. "I hope you'll at least consider it."

[Virdish]

Ignoring the "old" kid's tantrum Schmuzly shakes the man's hand, a small electric charge jumping from his hand on contact at which the old goblin cackles merrily. "Bit o' a shock ay?" Hopping up he claps his hands against each other in delight.


shocking grasp spell [roll0] electric damage


"So yet another homeless unemployed man hopping to steal the hard earned fortune of a dragon or two to get by." Schmuzly casually spits a thick glob of phlegm which seems to dissolve into mist when it hits the ground. Casually he places his own hand on the stranger's back quite heavily for a little goblin. "Well I myself am a writer with a home down in... well you wouldn't know it, but if I might offer you some advice. Settle down lad, find yourself a job that you can more concomitantly earn a living. Perhaps even buy a home so that you're not always locked out. Trust me, when you get to my age... well in any case we don't ant you becoming that do we?" He finishes sincerely gesturing to the tantrum before them.

Somehow despite his tattered garb the goblin caries himself with a sense of dignity not uncommon in the elderly, an almost noble manner about the old prankster. "I hope you'll at least consider it."

When the shock hits him Arcos's eyes seem to glimmer for a second as he reaches into his mind to tap the Psionic power brimming at the surface. For a second he throws around different possibilities on how he could take care of the impertinent Goblin before ultimately deciding that the electricity was simply a prank. Surely if the thing had wanted to cause real damage he would have pumped up the volume on that shock and done some real damage. As it is he simply concentrates on his own body for a A few seconds and then opens his mind to the psionic power inherent in the world.


Manifest: True Metabolism
Manifest: Mental Pinnacle


"Eh, I have everything I need back on my homeplane. Food, mead, and woman. Leaves me with no reason for a job. I adventure for fun nowadays."

[drack]

Noticing the serious expression that passes over the stranger's face Schmuzly makes a mental note to loosen the man up a touch or two later. Meanwhile he leans in closer as if not withing to be overheard. "So you think that just because you can manipulate space that you should live without any meaningful contributions to society? I'm not saying now, but think on it, how many ligaments have those women birthed you? How can you best benefit them? No, no, not with more women and wine, you should play your role in society, that way you are able to better benefit them in some abstract way therefore depriving you of responsibility while you run off to feed your interests. Trust me, it's the best way about it." With that he leaves the seious stranger strolling over to the tantrum youth. "Come now, no need to get so upset about it. I'm sue you're plenty old enough, and you can always get older when you grow up, okay?"

[al'Lan Mandrag]

Naeth studied the goblin with a look of interest: the goblin was self confessedly old, perhaps this was the beginnings of senility approaching. She had not had chance to study such a weakness before, since it was non existent in her own people, and most of the books she had studied on the matter dealt with such a case in humans: goblins and their ilk rarely made it to such venerable ages. Perhaps that was why he went by the name of Schmuzely rather than the name that Albert appeared to know him by: memory loss was a well known ailment of the old.

Naeth continued to consider her various new companions, noting down Anna's aggressive temperament and wondering whether it had anything to do with the saws in his head: she had heard head injuries could severely affect the temperament for the worst, there was a human case somewhere, though she could not recall the name...

[Frog Dragon]

The last to arrive, Theodore looks around the group and picks an empty spot in the gathering. He looks at each up and down, examining their auras with his vast array of psionic senses. Finally, the pale man cloaked both with a distorting haze of psionic power and an actual cloak straightens his posture and speaks. "I see introductions have begun already. I am Theodore Alvant, though mayhaps you already knew. We all have reputations that precede ourselves." As he speaks, he does not make the slightest movement. In fact, even his mouth moves only slightly. "As for the matter at hand, whatever happened, the information is here somewhere. This place knows, I could simply ask it for what we need."

[drack]

Seeing that the lad's sober expression he had taken the lesson to heart. Contented ,he strides boldly up to one of the humanoids, speaking in a crisp quick tone as if completely disregarding the lower intelegence of the natives Schmuzly Inquires as to if the local has heard of Armthesis or Skarzo, muttering under his breath angrily about "one more scared-face joke". The blasted barbarian had died two thousand years ago, and the youth was unlikely to have even heard of him, but two thousand years was plenty of time for even the best of jokes to get all worn out and drained of humor.

[Virdish]

The last to arrive, Theodore looks around the group and picks an empty spot in the gathering. He looks at each up and down, examining their auras with his vast array of psionic senses. Finally, the pale man cloaked both with a distorting haze of psionic power and an actual cloak straightens his posture and speaks. "I see introductions have begun already. I am Theodore Alvant, though mayhaps you already knew. We all have reputations that precede ourselves." As he speaks, he does not make the slightest movement. In fact, even his mouth moves only slightly. "As for the matter at hand, whatever happened, the information is here somewhere. This place knows, I could simply ask it for what we need."

Arcos stamped his hooves a little testing the feel of the ground. His Crystal helm slowly reappeared on his on his head forming around his ram horns. "Ask the place what you will. I don't figure any of these beings around us are of sufficient intelligence to tell us much of anything useful. We'd probably be better of asking the air, or the ground in your case.

[Frog Dragon]

"In that case, I will waste no more time." Standing perfectly still, Theodore no longer seems to be looking at anything, though he still does not close his eyes. Then, the gemstones in his palms and chest pulse with light, as do his eyes, still gazing into nothingness. He wills into his mind a vision, a portrait of what has happened and what may happen, before searching for the imprints left by past events that they might guide him in the future.

How can we follow the archmage Armthesis into his prison?

How can we avoid becoming trapped as Armthesis did?

Okay, I'm just Using Linked Power Synchronity to Divination twice here, but the fluff of Synchronity means it can make some sense. :smalltongue:

Recovering psionic focus immediately after it is expended, both times.

[BelGareth]

You ask your questions and feel nothing for several minutes, you begin to start wandering whether or not it had worked until a small soft voice creeps into your brain like a thief in the night.

"The easiesst waay to folloow something ing ing is to walk in its shadoww..."

The small voice pauses and speaks again "what is unknown is unknown, you ask the impossible..."

The voice fades, and ribbons of light blue energy appear before you, whirling and forming a moving ribbon pointing in a direction. It points towards the impossible mount, towards Sigil.

[Frog Dragon]

After minutes of waiting for the answer, Theodore mumbles in disappointment. "This shouldn't happen." Then he pauses, perhaps to clear his throat were such an act not completely unnecessary for him. "The entrance is in Sigil, that much my power can unearth at least. But how to avoid Armthesis' fate, I cannot say. We will simply have to be on our guard. It seems that the Hidden Plane guards its secrets well."

Do we need Greater Teleport or Planeshift to jump to Sigil?

[BelGareth]

Sigil requires specific gates to enter, you cannot enter it with teleportation, plane shift or even Gate spells

[Virdish]

Arcos tramps around trying to remember how to get into Sigil. He wasn't sure that he had ever visited the hub plane before but then he had visited so many different planes before that he was sure he had lost track.


Knowledge (The planes) to try and see if he knows how to get into Sigil
[roll0]

[BelGareth]

You all know how to get into sigil, specific Portals keyed to certain places allow access in and out.

Some of these portals are static, while others move with the flow of time.

There is one located where you are standing, an ancient structure of eaons time gone by.

A certain key is required for entry however, a specific divination spell cast towards the gate will reveal more information:
Spellcraft (with a divination spell, ala arcane sight or something similar)

30 or >
You see the portal, which leads to Sigil, and also to the 23rd layer of the Abyss, the Iron Wastes.

40 or >
Two keys are required to activate this gate. Holding a local flower while walking backwards through the center of the plinthe, and saying the words "clax sia itov, clax sia thaczil
clax ve svaklar si shilta ti stand
si tir ti doege, si mi still duulo
wux shilta ti clax wer svant de ve."

50 or >
To go to Sigil you must say the words.

[drack]

Schmuzly blinks suddenly remembering the portal, and chuckling slightly at himself. "Ah, yes, yes." Clearing his throat he begins an incantation, the words slipping from them as spirits might on the way back to the grave.

"Schmuggley Schmugaldy Schmagalty
Clang clong shang
Alieti arvokar haremana galzadan karmantez harlatar Osheric Henderson Glugralhanckenschmuzly
clax sia itov, clax sia thaczil
clax ve svaklar si shilta ti stand
si tir ti doege, si mi still duulo
wux shilta ti clax wer svant de ve."

Suddenly spinning on his heels he pops back through the portal waiting to see if they follow, dimly wondering how many others would accidentally announce themselves by his name to the portal mistaking it as part of the incantation.

Unlike most lesser races Schmuzly always taught his decedents to properly introduce them self to ancient magic before using it, exchanging pleasantries and the like rather then disrespectfully dragging the ancient magic they're making use of along for the ride.

[BelGareth]

You step through the portal which is only a blurred cone of reality as you say the words of power, light seems to bend around you as your body is shunted through the sub-portal of reality, tearing and pulling at you as you plummet through the worm-hole, with your eyes open you can see civilizations rise and fall, worlds devoured and created, a large pair of white orbs like eyes turn and stair at you, and then all of a sudden you are standing in a square full of merchants selling wares, the city around you is dimly lit, no sun is in existence and the smells, lack of sky and the illithid walking by lets you know you are standing in sigil, city of doors.

1

The rest of you witness the goblin speaking gibberish and then disappear as he walks through the center of the plinth.

[Lexin]

"I don't think introducing ourselves is necessary to pass through... but on the other hand... why not. he says quietly after seeing the chatty goblin vanish. He says the following in a steady, deep voice, carefully pronouncing every word.

I am Karthakarrlightavrraansgart'fraggghan'stirras Vol Cha'aartarlin'ngustri'nkaelrbillan and I wish to pass.
clax sia itov, clax sia thaczil
clax ve svaklar si shilta ti stand
si tir ti doege, si mi still duulo
wux shilta ti clax wer svant de ve."
...and passes through the portal when it activates.

[Frog Dragon]

Though Theodore did not naturally know Draconic, his power allowed him to understand anything with a meaning. So it was simple enough to hear what part of the goblin's chant was ritual, and what was simply the Schmuzly's general Schmuzlyness.

Though he cannot see the gate, he walks through, first speaking his name in the draconic tongue and then chanting the same syllables the goblin had just said.

[ShadowFireLance]

"Bah, Petty Magics of a mablik ooble, astahii vucot ti svabol astahii yenta.
Jaka, obsule nif."

[BelGareth]

The portal does not open for you, instead you here a voice in your head:

"astahii vucot aurthon ekess dolruth."

[ShadowFireLance]

"Shar tir astahii vucot wer lexri di zezhuanth drekimi, svaust predate shio mabliki? tir astahii vucot wer meaning di wer lexri? tir astahii renthisj astahi mrith ghralfanyo? tepoha astahii vucat truly svabol coi means ekess renthisj mishun lexri?"

The man stops, surprised, that one would stop him.

[BelGareth]

"nomagqe ti, shar astahii wiilirk wer kulti, wux jalla vucot desta..."

[ShadowFireLance]

"Indeed I should. Sia ominak ui malinamious, vur si huven ekess dolruth. Dinok Wah Pah."

[BelGareth]

As you all enter the portal, however you may, and however long you may, you eventually find yourself staring at the grand bazaar section of the great city of Doors, Sigil.

You see the wiley goblin who had gone before you, standing and waiting, chewing the same tobacco as before.

Behind you there is no visible portal, and those vendors in there stalls are not surprised to see you, several denizens of the city of doors however shy away from you all, a group of Beholders float away, flying up, to switch mid flight spinning 180 to take on the gravity above you in the streets towards the Dark Sigh, another group, seemingly an alhoon fades into the shadows and disappears...

All round you spices, herbs, toxins, poisons, teas and afflictions are sold and bartered for, your senses reel at the intoxicating combination of it all, and the sudden change of landscape.